


Of All The Fish In the Sea

by ImaginationCubed



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Art Student Keith (Voltron), Cheerleader Lance (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Football Player Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Prom, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 07:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17320325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaginationCubed/pseuds/ImaginationCubed
Summary: The three musketeers, three peas in a pod, the phrases that had fit the trio were endless. Until Keith got to watch his two best friends, his two crushes, fall for each other right before his eyes.Shiro and Lance had been together for so long already, and their bond didn't include him. And, with prom season just around the corner, Keith knew it would be another year of resigning himself to seeing them happy from a distance.So, why hadn't he given up already?





	Of All The Fish In the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Commission fill asking for football player Shiro, cheerleader Lance, and art kid Keith during prom season in high school.

Keith pressed the red plastic solo cup to his lips with a roll of his eyes, swallowing whatever liquid he had been given as the party blared on behind him. At the beginning of the night, he told himself he wouldn’t consume anything alcoholic, that he would remain sober despite his turbulent emotions. Yet by the end of the night, just like always, he found himself stumbling over his own feet. He wasn’t sure which of his five drinks had carried the substance that brought him to this state, but at this point, all that mattered was that he was already down the road of intoxication. One more drink wouldn’t change that. 

In fact, it just might have helped distract him from the fact that his two best friends were sucking face in the next room.

Loud music and overactive peers weren’t his scene, but he had let his friends drag him here anyway. Lately, he found himself pathetically desperate for their attention, for even the few extra moments he got when Shiro dropped him off at work. Habits like lying about his history grades so he could get unnecessary study help and asking for rides even when his foster parents were available had only become routine. It wasn’t as if they ignored him. No, they had made effort after effort to bring him along to their events, but it was Keith’s own pitiful issues that had constantly thrown him into heartbreak every time. 

He downed the rest of his drink, and began to pick at the edge of the cup.

Heartbreak. Yeah, he had no right to feel that. He had had every chance to admit his feelings. The only thing that had ever gotten in the way was himself. All he’d done his entire life was shy away from anything that even hinted at the possibility of rejection. No romance, no plans for college, nothing that opened him up to the possibility of new unwanted negativity. His life had been nothing but hindered by the unwelcome fear that abandonment brought him.

Burdensome. That was what those fears were. That was what  _ he _ was. Nothing but burdensome, not just to himself but to everyone around him.

Tossing his cup in the trash, he scanned the area for the people who had dragged him here. Standing in the middle of a stranger’s house surrounded by overly cheery people and the latest pop music he was unfamiliar with only added to the intense alienation brewing within him. 

The situation was nothing new. He had been alone before. His only friends had formed a bond that didn’t involve him. He would be alone again. 

He stumbled out the front door. The longer he stayed, the more it hurt. The slim hope that just maybe he would get attention from his friends had faded completely as the party blared on. He could take his chances walking home, take his chances at the reactions of his foster parents when he lost his balance walking to his room. Shiro had offered Keith his couch for the night to avoid such a confrontation, since his own parents had gone away for the weekend and left the house empty. But as tempting as the offer sounded, Keith wasn’t ready to spend his night willing himself to fall asleep quickly so that he didn’t have to hear his friends making out upstairs. Especially not when he longed so badly to be in place of either one of them.

Keith exhaled, then forced his feet to move one in front of the other, carrying himself away from the smell of cheap alcohol and the boom of blaring music that chipped away at his exterior.

* * *

Nimble fingers smudged graphite across the page. In reality, he shouldn’t have used his own skin for such a job, but he was in no mood to wait until the smudging sticks were available. Somehow, even though he was working on a piece after hours, everything from the art supply closet was checked out and in use. 

A familiar weight rested atop his head, and well known arms came around his frame as a strong chest pressed into his back. “Hey, Keith. What’s up?”

“Usual,” Keith replied, wiping his graphite-coated fingers on his paint-stained flannel. He sat back to regard his work. He mentally tore it to shreds before he spoke again. “Cheer practice end early?”

“Yeah, but football’s still going, so we’re stuck here until Shiro’s done too,” Lance said. “So, can I see what you’re drawing?”

Keith focused his eyes on the floor. “Just a dumb thing I dreamt,” Keith carefully maneuvered his piece to give his friend a better view and glanced up to gauge Lance’s reaction as he inspected the drawing.

“Don’t call it dumb!” Lance exclaimed, bright eyed at what he had been handed, “I love how it’s all in black and white. What’s that called again?” 

“Value,” Keith answered, the corners of his mouth teasing up into a small smile as he recalled how many times he had tried to teach his friend art terminology. Lance always managed to forget what he was told, but it was nevertheless incredibly sweet of him to continuously ask about his art. Gluing his eyes to Lance’s changing expressions, Keith fixed his beanie and the way his bangs fell with it as the piece was handled, distracting himself from the impending judgement. He silently concocted an endless string of scenarios where Lance hated his work, despite being too nice to say it to his face.

“Well, it’s awesome. Stop putting yourself down. I bet you a hundred bucks you’re getting into art school,” Lance assured.

“If only a hundred bucks would pay for art school,” Keith scoffed.

Lance moved to hold Keith’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “I’m sure someone as talented as you can get a ton of scholarships.” 

Keith shrugged, using the action as an excuse to remove his hand from Lance’s. He wasn’t allowed to have that privilege. It was for Shiro, and he couldn’t convince himself otherwise. “If I don’t, I’ll just pump gas or something. I don’t care anymore.”

“Stop it, Keith. You’re going to get in. I know it!” Lance’s gaze softened with his words. He always had a way with his words and getting people to believe in their own abilities. As someone who grew up with his own fluctuating sense of self worth, Lance had made it a point to lift up anyone around him struggling with the same thing.

Keith let a soft smile tug at his lips. “Thanks.” He knew the truth. He wouldn’t get in when it came around to applications.

Lance slid the the artwork back with a nervous smile. “Hey, so, I was wondering if I could ask you for some advice.”

“I… uh, sure? I can’t promise I’ll be helpful though.”

Lance waved his hand as he spoke, “Nah, don’t worry. You will be.” He focused his attention on Keith as he continued, “Okay, so here it goes. You know how it’s Shiro’s senior year and stuff? Yeah, well we wanted prom to be extra special.” Lance put his hands up in the air before Keith could object to his timing, “I know, I know, it’s October, and most people don’t start thinking about it until February, but I wanted to plan early. So, what do you think a cute promposal would be?”

Of course this was Lance’s question. Advice for his relationship with Shiro. It wasn’t as if it was a new thing, though. One time Keith and Lance had gone away on a school trip with the rest of their grade, but while Keith had looked forward to having Lance’s constant attention, a large portion of his weekend was spent talking Lance through a rough spot in his friend’s relationship. He was used to it. Used to being the middleman, the third wheel, the odd man out.

Keith crossed his arms and tightened his lips. “You always go extra. Just do what you’re good at, cheerleader.”

“Yeah, yeah, but… okay, let me put it this way. If you were to get a promposal, what would you want?” Lance leaned his head onto his palm, eagerly waiting for Keith’s answer.

“Me?” Keith blinked at him and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yes, you. If someone asked you to prom, how would you like it done?”

“Oh…I…” Keith imagined the scene of Lance holding a large, glittery poster, declaring his intentions to take Keith to prom in front of the whole cafeteria, Keith blushing and crying tears of happiness, and—No. Lance wasn’t going to ask him. This was only to help Lance come up with a way to ask his  _ boyfriend _ to prom. And Keith wasn’t his boyfriend. “I don’t know. Probably something small.”

“Like?” Lance pressed.

“I don’t know. I guess a decorated sign would be nice? Something creative?” Keith pondered the scene again as the romance of it faded with Lance’s absence. Just entering the crowded cafeteria was a nightmare in itself, adding the idea of the entire school’s attention on him in particular was a horror story scarier than any Hollywood movie. “Yeah, just not anything in front of a crowd.”

“Gotcha.” Lance threw a pair of finger guns at his friend. “Thanks for the help, buddy.”

“You’re welcome,” Keith fumbled with his pencils as he gathered them, ashamed at how well Lance’s dorky charm got to him. As long as Lance was striking up conversation, there was no way Keith was getting anymore work done for the afternoon.

“I thought I would find you both here.” another voice came from the doorway.

“Hey, Takashi!” Lance greeted. In Shiro’s presence, there was an excited bounce in his step as he left his seat to wrap his arms around his boyfriend. Keith wasn’t good enough to bring that type of reaction out of Lance.

Keith waved meekly at Shiro.  _ Takashi. _ How he wanted to be able to use that name, but no, that was Lance’s to use, not his. He would never be close enough to Shiro to let the name bring comfort. No, he would always have to use the same nickname that everyone else did. He had to keep his distance. Nothing intimate.

Shiro gave Keith a small nod before turning his attention to Lance, “How was practice, Kitten?”

Keith turned away and let the conversation drown out. Hopefully, they would get home before it hurt too much. Or maybe the car radio would play the newest popular song, and Keith would get to distract himself with the happiness in Lance’s tone as he sang along and the shamelessness of Shiro’s own horrible additions. But, for now, he was on his own to remind himself he had no right to feel the way he did.

* * *

Keith closed his sketchbook and tossed it aside as he leaned back onto Shiro’s bed. It had a forest green cover that matched the sketchpad set he had been given for his first art class. The book landed upwards, showing off the sticker collection he had put onto the cover. He rolled onto his side to face Shiro, who was seated at his desk, “Mind if I take a nap?”

“What happened to studying?” Shiro questioned, quirking an eyebrow. He placed his pen down and gently tapped the last index card into the pile of study cards he’d been making.

“The test is Monday. I’ll have time,” Keith assured.

“Well, actually, I do mind then. No sleeping until you at least go through the flashcards.” Shiro replied, handing Keith the stack of cards. 

Keith quickly flipped through them, skimming the words on each one. He looked up briefly, “Why didn’t you just use Quizlet? We could’ve used them at the same time.”

“Writing it down helps me remember,” Shiro answered, shifting through the papers in his plastic binder.

“Valid.” Keith laid back into the plush pillows of Shiro’s bed, raising the index cards above him. A natural silence fell between them, the same type that had always left a calm feeling in Keith’s chest. Throughout the duo’s entirety of growing up, of being childhood friends and neighbors, they had found the ability to stay in silence and enjoy the company of one another without a word between them. Every other person demanded so much attention, so much active interaction, but between the two of them, simply co-existing was always enough. It was an amazing feeling. No need to fill the space, no need to find an activity, just the chance to feel each others presence as they each did their own thing.

Keith inevitably let boredom take him after the sixth card. His gaze wandered over to the man sitting at the desk, staring so studiously at the work splayed out in front of him. Shiro was determined, persistent, ambitious… everything Keith could ever want in a boyfriend. No one could compare to Shiro, but Keith would never be lucky enough to have him.

Keith’s eyes shifted away from Shiro, settling on the windowsill behind him. The snowfall outside created the perfect scenery: the bare trees of February collected the falling white powder, cascading down near Shiro’s head and filling the background behind him as the desk lamp next to him illuminated his face, leaving a unique pattern of shadows across his skin.

Shiro wouldn’t be upset with him if he decided to draw instead, right?

Tucking the index cards into his pocket, he took up his sketchbook again and opened it to a blank page. Pulling his artist’s glove on to prevent smudges, he began his new piece with nothing but a cheap number two pencil he had stolen from Shiro’s backpack.

“Actually…” Shiro started, “I have something on my mind.”

Keith sat up straight, looking up from his messy sketch of the window frame to give Shiro his full attention. “Oh? Um, do you want to talk about it?”

“That would be nice. I might get some real work done then.” Shiro stuck a post-it note onto the page he had been reading before closing the plastic shell holding them. He turned himself towards Keith. “It’s about Lance.”

Oh… of course it was. Either Shiro needed advice on a date to bring another stunning smile to Lance’s face or on how to solve trouble brewing in paradise. It always was. Every time Shiro had turned to Keith about Lance, it had always been nothing but relationship advice. Even before his friends had originally gotten together, any Lance-related concerns Shiro had were only concerning the two’s budding romance or his angst over what he had at the time considered an unrequited crush. Neither was ideal. 

The first option, although he would absolutely adore to see the upwards curl of Lance’s lips, wasn’t something he would be allowed to see. It would be shared between only Lance and Shiro, something private for just the two of them. And for Keith, it would be nothing more than a reminder that he wasn’t dating either of them, and never would be. And the second option—all the second option meant was that the two people closest to him would likely be left hurt or upset, which is not something wanted to see or hear. Neither of the two deserved it.

Shiro continued speaking, clueless about Keith’s inner turmoil, “I’m graduating soon, and I know Lance is a bit nervous about becoming long distance. And, I really want him to know that even if I’m going away to college while you both finish your senior year, I’m not going to move on. So, I was thinking I should have a really amazing promposal for him? I know he eats that stuff up.”

Keith’s face softened as he closed his sketchbook.“He really does, doesn’t he?” 

“So, I wanted to ask… if someone asked  _ you,  _ what would you want them to do?” 

“Me?” Keith pointed to himself, as if there was anyone else in the room Shiro could possibly be talking to. Months ago, Lance had asked Keith the same question. Would one of them make a move first and spoil the other’s plans? Or maybe they’d miraculously manage to do it at the same time by an extreme coincidence?

He wondered what it would be like to have Shiro that concerned about  _ him _ . To hear that Lance was setting up some sort of event for  _ him _ . Keith once half-joked about the idea that they could date him as well, though based on the genuine laughter he had gotten from the comment there was no way either of them would ever feel the same. Shiro and Lance’s bond was strong, unshakable. The fact that Shiro was scheduled for graduation and there had been no mention of a possible break up only solidified it.

Then Keith dared to think—could they have maybe not asked the question for each other, but actually for  _ him _ instead? They had both asked his personal preferences, but what he would want was nothing like what either of them would want, and—No. He was reading too far into it. Shiro and Lance were only ensuring their promposals would be top notch. He was their friend, and they trusted his opinion, that’s all. Shiro and Lance were together, very happily, and as far as Keith knew, they weren’t looking for any additions to their relationship. Of course, they’d never actually mentioned anything about it, but they would have said something to their best friend if they were, right?

“Yes, you. I know you two are close. I thought you could give me some ideas.”

“Oh… My personal preference is smaller stuff, and well, that’s not Lance’s taste, so I don’t think I’m really that helpful,” Keith admitted. It was kind of a weak excuse, but the less emotionally involved he was, the better.

“Well, I want to hear your ideas.” Shiro stood from his chair and made his way over towards Keith, “What would you like?” Shiro’s fingers came to touch the bangs hanging above Keith’s forehead.

He fought the flush rapidly coming over his face, ducking his head away from Shiro with the excuse of retrieving the index cards from his pocket, “I don’t know… something creative? It doesn’t have to be big. I guess even if you— _ they _ just made a sign or something, I’d be happy?” Keith hoped Shiro didn’t notice his slip up. “I just like original ideas? I’m sorry, I’m bad at this romantic stuff.” Keith’s right hand pulled at the glove partly covering his hand.

Shiro gave him a smile, then tapped something into his phone. “Thanks, Keith. I think I have a good idea now.”

* * *

A year ago, Keith wouldn’t have paid any mind to prom season. He would’ve just rolled his eyes at all the drama—Lance’s stress about who he would be going with, how he was going to ask them, or how people hyped up the experience until the actual event was nothing but a lackluster feeling.

This year, however, his head was filled with miserable thoughts circulating about how his two best friends, his two  _ crushes _ , were going together. Without him. Prom was supposed to be the biggest event of their high school careers, and Keith would only hear story after story about how perfect it was from the two guys he longed to go with so badly.

What happened to him? He thought he was above this, above letting his feelings take control this way. But, somehow he found himself more focused on assuring himself he wasn’t in the wrong for wanting a romantic relationship from his closest friends. Even if the two of them were so content with the bond they had excluding Keith.

He sighed and took his coffee from the counter next to the barista. He would’ve preferred to ease his fatigue by napping like he usually did, but Shiro had told him that morning that he and Lance had somewhere to be after school and couldn’t drive him home. With both foster parents wrapped up at work, he had no choice but to walk, which meant that he’d need an afternoon energy boost.

He exited the building and moseyed on the concrete sidewalk as he took absent minded sips of his bitter drink. His mind wandered to what his friends may have planned that left him to walk home on his own. Not that he was complaining much, it wasn’t incredibly far. He and Shiro used to make the walk together everyday after school. Once Shiro had gotten his car those afterschool walks became daily rides home. And the cushy life of getting driven home by Shiro everyday had definitely gotten to Keith, because right now the only complaint was that he had was that he was making the journey on foot.

As he stepped around the corner, the sight of a red pick up truck sitting in Shiro’s driveway ripped him from his own thoughts. No, there must have been some reason Shiro drove home but couldn’t drop him off. He wouldn’t lie to Keith, right?

Quickening his steps, he pulled one headphone from his ear absentmindedly. Then, he stopped completely. 

The sidewalk in front of him was littered with words scribbled in chalk, reading  _ Seven reasons we want to go to prom with you _ . His eyes followed the arrow above the words, leading him to the next section of sidewalk where he saw more writing.

_ Your pout is adorable, but we love your smile too. _

Then a few steps away on the next section of sidewalk:  _ We might have dumb ideas, but you support us anyway. _

Two squares further up the concrete:  _ Even when Shiro burned the cookies he tried to surprise you with, you tried to eat them anyway. _

Each step, each sentence brought him closer towards his house. Is this what Shiro and Lance were doing? Was this for him? No, there was no way they would do this for him. He wasn’t that important to them. They had each other. They didn’t need him for something so special. Yet, he still found himself placing one foot in front of the other, following each statement that had been written.

A few steps in front of his driveway:  _ You stayed up all night to help Lance study for a midterm in a class he didn’t understand, and even when he had trouble paying attention, you kept helping. _

About a foot from the base of the black pavement:  _ Running inside from a rainstorm, then cuddling together until we all warmed up is one of our favorite memories. _

Where his foster mother usually parked her car:  _ When your piece was rejected from the art show, all we wanted to do was kiss you and hold you until you felt better. _

And at the steps to his front porch:  _ If we’re going to make any new memories, we want you to be a part of them. _

He glanced up to see the two men responsible standing on the doorstep to his house. They spoke in hushed voices to one another, Keith catching their eyes on his reactions except for their occasional quick glances to one another. Their hands remained intertwined, squeezing tightly as Keith came closer.

Keith moved towards the pair, his mind circulating the same thoughts over and over, cycling through what he’d read in each sentence scribbled on the sidewalk. Were they serious? Was he  _ that _ important? Did they really think about holding him? About  _ kissing _ him?

When his feet could get no closer to the other two men, he stopped, frozen. Speechless. Lance took Keith’s hand and worked something into his palm. Still at a loss for words, Keith uncurled his fingers and gazed at the object he’d been given,a book of matches. And written across the front:  _ We think we make a great match. _

He opened up the cover to find a single word was scrawled on the inside.  _ Prom? _

All the matches had been taken out except for two, one marked with the word ‘yes’, and the other ‘no’. Keith didn’t have to think about his answer for a second. He immediately ripped one from the book and looked up at his two best friends. Lance watched him, blue eyes darting between Keith and the world around them as he rubbed at the back of his neck. Shiro bit his bottom lip, eyes glued to the match between Keith’s fingers.

Keith flipped it around, showing off the word he had chosen. ‘ _ Yes’. _

Suddenly, Lance’s arms were around him, squeezing the life from his body and planted a short kiss on his cheek. When Lance pulled back, Shiro came in for a second hug.

“Even after I said I’d prefer something small? Twice?” Keith asked, lips curled into a smile.

“Yeah, but I’m extra,” Lance defended. “Would it really be meaningful if  _ I _ did something small?”

“I told him you wouldn’t like it if asked you in front of the whole school,” Shiro added, “so we settled on writing on the sidewalk outside your house.”

“And this is… this is as friends?” Keith questioned, purple eyes breaking eye contact with them. He fiddled with his belt loop and gnawed at his bottom lip as he took a small step back, suddenly worried he’d interpreted this all wrong.

“Keith, we literally said we wanted to kiss you.” Lance pointed out, “Do you think that’s a thing we’d tell you if we wanted you to go to prom with us as friends?”

“I don’t know!” Keith’s voice squeaked as he spoke, “I didn’t want to make this weird if it wasn’t romantic.”

“Well,” Shiro spoke, “If you want it to be as friends, we can go as friends. But, if you’ll have us, I know I speak for both Lance and I when I say that we’d like to try a relationship with you too.”

“Starting at prom?” Keith said, quirking an eyebrow.

“Starting now would be preferable.” Lance took Keith’s hand into his own. “So, what do you think?”

Keith smiled, pulling Lance’s hand close to his chest as he moved to wrap his free arm around Shiro in a hug. “I think that sounds nice.” 


End file.
